Look No Further
by QuirkyChameleon
Summary: My very first songfic :D it's from Hermione's point of view. A reflection on her beautiful life based off of the song "Look No Further" by Dido. Do enjoy!


**This is my very first songfic that I've ever written! Woot****!**

**Clearly, I'm quite excited. **

**It's based on the song "Look No Further" by Dido. The lyrics are really beautiful and if you ever listen to the song it's quite calm and relaxing and not screaming with emotion ("OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOU") but more subtle ("I've found happiness. With you. If I ever lost happiness, I'd easily be able to find it, but then again why would I ever need to look?"). It's really quite lovely and one of my favorite songs. So do enjoy this lovely fanfic.**

Hermione Weasley awoke from her slumber, her lashes parting to reveal the dark bedroom, a dim silvery light coming from the moon outside the window. Her husband Ron slept next to her, his arm draped across her stomach, his head on her shoulder.

Hermione felt a sudden urge to get up and walk around, so she gently moved his arm and nudged him gently off of her.

Hermione padded gently out to the kitchen in her house slippers and dressing gown. Her mouth felt rather dry so she decided to get a glass of water.

As she sipped her water, she looked around at her quiet, still house. Sometimes it all really blew her mind, her life did. The fact that she was married to Ronald Weasley, the Ronald Weasley who helped to bring down Voldemort in collaboration Harry Potter and herself. The fact that she was considered one of the brightest witches of the age. She could have easily remained a Muggle, now that she thought about it. She would have been a whole other person.

_I might have been a singer_

_Who sailed around the world_

_A gambler who wins millions_

_And spends it all on girls_

Many Muggle careers could have sparked interest in her, even at an early age. Hermione's parents could have seen her Hogwarts letter and chucked it, thinking it was some kind of spam or discount offer. She could have even ended up in the dentist profession, like both her parents had. She certainly wouldn't have been interested in Magical Law Enforcement as a Muggle.

_I might have been a poet_

_Who walked upon the moon_

_A scientist to tell the world_

_I discovered something new_

Hermione sat and pondered this. That was an even more staggering possibility than anything else she had thought of. Had she remained a Muggle she would not have met Harry Potter, the only brother figure she'd ever had. She never would have met Ron Weasley, or fallen in love with him, or married him, or given birth to the two beautiful children who slept just down the hall.

_I might have loved a king_

_Been the one to end a war_

_A criminal who drank champagne_

_And never could be caught_

It occurred to Hermione that checking on the kids would be a good idea. She got up, set down her glass, and set off down the hall. She'd go to Rose's room first.

Her eight-year-old daughter lay in her bed, her blue eyes closed as she slept peacefully; her Weasley hair rippled gracefully across her pillow in a wavy glossiness.

Rose was the image of her father Ron, but her personality was very much like Hermione's; Rose was exceptionally bright and for the most part headstrong. Ron had often gone to work and bragged about his brilliant daughter who had her mother's brains and who loved books as his wife did.

Rose had in fact left a large pile of books by the bookshelf, as was per usual. A favorite hobby of Rose's was to get a stack of books and either sit in the living room or her own bedroom and read. Rose had loved to read ever since she was able to; the pile of books didn't surprise Hermione at all, just made a little glow of pride grow warm in her heart.

Smiling, Hermione picked up the books and put them back as quietly as possible, so as not to wake her daughter. But then again, Hermione thought amusedly, Rose slept almost as heavily as Ron did. Another lovable Weasley trait. And to Hermione, Rose's love of books added one of her own traits to her daughter.

_But among your books_

_Among your clothes_

_Among the noise and farce_

_I've let it go_

Rose stirred slightly; the blanket had half-fallen off of her. Hermione went to Rose's bed, knelt down, and gently fixed her blanket. Then Hermione kissed Rose's head and whispered "I love you, Rosie."

She really did. Rose was her and Ron's first baby. The child that bonded them for a lifetime. It was with Rose they had first become parents. And it was with Rose that they had learned what it was to love a child, to have each a part of themselves combined into another human being. A really dizzying concept for both Ron and Hermione, but a pleasing one nonetheless.

_I can stop_

_And catch my breath_

_And look no further_

_For happiness_

_And I will not turn again_

_Because my heart_

_Has found its home_

Hermione left Rose's room and went to Hugo's. In Hugo's room there were things that belonged to your typical boy in the Wizarding world; Quidditch posters and figurines, a toy broomstick, an entire slew of Chudley Cannons merchandise including posters, flags, and even Hugo's blanket had the Cannons on it (Ron had wasted no time in filling their son's room with his favorite Quidditch team). Hugo had fallen asleep in the act of playing with his Quidditch figurines; no doubt a riveting Quidditch game had taken place among his figurines. Hermione could even see the tiny Quaffle on the floor, with the tiny Bludgers levitating off the ground menacingly. The tiniest ball was the Snitch, but it was so tiny that Hugo had nearly lost it upon first playing with it, so Hermione had increased it to the size of the miniature Quaffle. Hugo liked to name the figurines after his family, most particularly himself, his sister, and his cousins. The players were called Hugo, Rosie, Al, James, Lily, Louis, Teddy, and Lucy. He didn't have enough of the figurines to name them after all of his cousins, but he enjoyed himself all the same. And all the Mums and Dads were in their proper place during these games; the audience.

Hermione couldn't figure out where Hugo got such an imaginative persona. But she didn't mind. It was a very lovable part of him.

_Everyone I'll never meet_

_And the friends I won't now make_

_The adventures that could have been_

_And the risks I'll never take_

Hermione quite loved having a son. It had been a great decision on their part. Hermione had become pregnant with Hugo after much persuasion and encouragement from Ron; they had both been wary of having another child after the tumultuous conception and birth of Rose.

But Hermione had known that any son of Ron's would be a sweet, kind, loving boy. Not only because of this, but because Hugo learned from Ron; learned to be protective of those he loved, learned to love a significant other, learned to cherish those closest to him.

Having a daughter was one thing, having a son was a completely different experience.

_But among your books_

_Among your clothes_

_Among the noise and farce_

_I've let it go_

Hermione smiled gently, softness in her eyes as she took Hugo's toys out of his hands and picked him up in her arms. At six years old Hugo was not quite as light as he had been as a baby, but it was really no strain on Hermione. She laid her son in his bed and covered him up with the Chudley Cannons blanket that clashed so brilliantly with his Weasley hair.

Hermione kissed Hugo's head and whispered "I love you, Hugo."

He didn't wake up but Hermione thought she saw the faintest trace of a smile enter her son's face as she closed the door quietly.

Hermione began to walk quietly toward her own bedroom, her slippers padding quietly down the hall. She entered to see Ron, still asleep but in a different position. He was now turned toward where Hermione would be in their bed.

_I can stop_

_And catch my breath_

Hermione took off her slippers and dressing gown and climbed into bed. The coolness of the bed in her absence seemed to greet her. She turned over toward Ron and closed her eyes.

"I wondered where you'd gone."

Hermione blinked her eyes open to see Ron awake and looking at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you-"

"Don't be sorry," yawned Ron. "It's okay. What were you doing up?"

"I just wanted to take a walk around," said Hermione. "And I checked on the kids. Our kids."

Ron sighed happily and pulled her closer.

"I love our kids, Hermione."

"I do too," smiled Hermione, placing her hands on his. They sat there together, feeling the other's warmth and their hearts overflowing with love and happiness that they felt with each other.

_And look no further_

_For happiness_

Ron sighed, and kissed Hermione's head.

"Come on; let's see if we can sleep a bit."

He lay down, an arm still around his wife. Once they had both lain down, he turned her toward him so that their faces were very close and their noses were touching.

Ron put his hand on her face.

"You are so beautiful."

Hermione sighed peacefully and Ron kissed her head, then her nose, then his lips found hers and they kissed happily. They did this for a few minutes, then Hermione snuggled up close to where her head was nestled in Ron's shoulder. He lay on his back, his arm still around her, and she relaxed out into his chest, an arm clumsily draped over him and her head still resting on his shoulder.

"I love you," Hermione whispered.

"I love you," said Ron sleepily, kissing her head.

With that, they both went back to sleep.

They never got tired of feeling the feeling of love, of being so utterly content, or life finally being everything they dreamed of. Every bit of happiness they had ever searched for they had found in each other and in their children, Rose and Hugo.

They were both full of love and full of utter happiness.

_Tonight was lovely,_ thought Hermione, as she smiled sleepily and let herself be lost in the warm love of Ron that she felt inside and out. _As for happiness…I will look no further_.

_And I will not turn again_

_Because my heart_

_Has found its home._


End file.
